Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Abby & the Dishes

I hate doing household crap.  I hate it.  I do it because its part of my job...I CHOOSE to make it part of my job.  If I chose not to make it part of my job I would be my husband's ex.  Not: would leave me...but like, I would be functioning like the woman who IS his ex.

I hate vacuuming and dishes the most.  When I was a kid, vacuuming was y household chore, my sister got to dust...way easier...I'm bitter.  Washing dishes by hand inevitably ends in me being soaking wet.  I don't know how.  I'm just inept like that.

My husband is cool.  I say it all the time, he rocks.  He's the kinda guy who if he thinks I need the help, will just pick up a rag and dust, or run the vacuum.  I went grocery shopping last weekend and came home to 2 loads of laundry washed, dried and folded...he's awesome!
EXCEPT when he does the dishes.  THE FRICKIN DISHES!

Here's the thing.  I don't have to wash things by hand because we have a fantabulous Whirlpool dishwasher. It does a great job, its 2 years old, love it.  I would make out with it if it were appropriate and not completely weird.  But this dishwasher has this new fangled thing.  Its like an unnecessary grate that flips up and down over the utensil section. 

See the illustrations....love the illustrations....

Right...So I don't use said grate.  It irritates me.
Here's why.  (Cuz I just KNOW that understanding my irritation will MAKE YOUR DAY!)
I do a million things every day.  I dislike doing dishes-even with a dish washer.  If this grate is flipped up, I can grab an entire section of utensils at one time with my big mit.  I can also randomly toss utensils down into the sections without having to pay attention to how they are going in.  IF the grate is down you have to gingerly pluck each and every utensil out individually....HOLY TIME WASTER!  Not to mention watching me try to fit things down into those slots is like watching a 6 mo old try to fit a square block into a round hole.  *Hears Carlos Mencia saying Dee-Dee-Dee*

But I FAIL to see why the silverware needs to be separated!  Do they fight once the water goes on?  Do they hold mashed potato wrestling for the spoons (they're curvy-lets assume they're women).  Do the steak knives and the butter knives have turf wars?  WHYYYYYYYYY ...do they require imdividual slots?!?


So THIS is my way:

But THIS.....
Is my husband's way.

Can we see the problem?

"OH My God!  This woman's husband does the dishes and she bitches about the flippy thingy on the silverware?!  What is wrong with her?!?" 
Type A personality (according to the head nurse at the hospital where I had my darling little boy).

Ok honestly, I'd rather have him do the dishes than do them myself...even if he MUST use the flippy thingy.  HAH he's standing over my shoulder right now...one eyebrow raised...nodding his head saying "Uhhh...huh..."  I have a feeling I just took on the dishes by myself for a while!\

PUBLIC SERVICE COMPLETELY UNRELATED ANNOUNCEMENT:  Deadliest Catch starts in 12 days!  RIP Capt Phil :(
Ok Sorry, heard that from the other room.

So with man child in lap, husband and kids headed back out to play, I wrap up my uncontrollable and unnecessary rant about dishes and flippy silverware organizing thingies.  Bet that was 5 minutes of your life you will never get back! :)

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

It happened to me!

It's official.  I can no longer pass judgement on the pregnancy board posts that say "He fell off the bed..." well, I mean, I CAN...but I will be less likely to. 
NO, he didn't fall off the bed...Lord, I wouldn't leave him any place where that could happen.  I feel off the bed when I was an infant.  My mom, whom I adore, said she heard every little bone in my body rattle and the sound made her sick to her stomache.  I am overly cautious about bed safety as a result of that.

That being said...my son is apparently developing stomache muscles faster than I gave him credit for.  While bumping (for those of you non-bumpees...thebump.com is a pregnancy/parenting website that is as addictive as hell!  Bumping=screwing around on that site.
So...while bumping this afternoon with my son on my knee, the boy PITCHED himself forward and *WHACK*!  Smacked his little noodle right on the corner of the desk. 

My son is not a crier.  He only cries if he's hungry or has horrible gas/reflux going on.  He SCREAMED bloody murder.  His entire head went bright red-which made it most difficult to see where the injury was, and when I went to hug him, in all his almost 4 month old sass...he pushed my face away!! 

*que mommy tears*

After a few minutes of cuddling him, he did settle down...but that was it for me for the night.  I know accidents happen but not on my watch!  Ask anyone I know...out of 100 kid injuries like 1/2 of an injury might occur on my watch.  Safety frickin first!  And here I am, holding my sobbing, moaning child, who's sobbing and moaning because Mama had her head up her ass while replying to a post about baseball...yeah...it was yours Melissa!

SOOOOOOOO in typical me fashion, I took him outside and had my husband take him for a ride on the dirt bike.  (So much for safety 1st...but that's technically Daddy's watch...)

This was the icing on a cake.  Let me just give you a run down of the rest of my day:

The dog went to the vet.  Her eyes are all screwy.  Red puffiness we've been fighting for going on 2 years now.  They have no idea what it is.  We have tried, OFFICIALLY, all but ONE ointment option and ONE antihistamine (both of which I picked up today).  If this last feeble attempt doesn't work, they want us to take her to...get this...A DOGGIE OPTHALMOLOGIST!!!!  :headdesk:

Went to the grocery!  Took a list.  YES I remembered my list!  A seldom used, but all together effective technique.  I bought salad dressing, croutons, cherry tomatoes, bacon bits...I FORGOT THE F'ING SALAD!  I also forgot the ONLY required ingredient that I don't have for tomorrow night's dinner.  SO MUCH FOR A LIST.  Apparently they only work if you READ them. 

Dinner would have been nice, if I could have tasted it after giving myself 3rd degree burns of the tongue and mouth roofage while testing it.

Last but not least, something smelled in the kitchen.  We had a pipe rupture last fall, didn't know about it because it was between the old main floor and the floated floor.  Leaked for a few months before we found out-smelled bad when water would run through it.  Had to have a mold remediation crew and 2 different construction crews spend almost 3 months fixing it!! UHG!!!  Best part is I was 8 mo pregnant at the time.  Awesome!  So something smelled in the kitchen today.  Same area!  HOLY FREAK OUT TIME!
Turns out it was the garbage.  I uhm...threw a poop diaper in there yesterday, and that combined with some food thing one of the kids threw out, were the culprits.  THANK THE LORD!

So It happened to me...my son got hurt on my watch.  He's sleeping in my arms as I type.  I obviously learned nothing from this experience.  Glad to know it had such a profound impact on me.  Sleep deprivation is just rocking my world!

Monday, March 29, 2010

"I'll Sleep When I'm Dead!"

Those were the famous last words of a friend of mine who found out 3 weeks ago that he's going to be a daddy!  I shook my head.  Tempting fate...soooooo sooooooo tempting fate!

I woke up this morning with my entire body hurting.  I was sure I was hearing my alarm go off, but couldn't figure out where my alarm was (I use my cell phone as an alarm).  My little man had kicked it under the blankets.  It was one of those mornings where I wished I could call in sick for home and sleep until noon.  That doesn't work with 4 kids.  Hell, that doesn't work with one kid!
Thankfully when I finally forced myself to open my eyes, I was greeted with this:
  This sweet smiley little face was literally inches from my face.  Yeah...I break the baby rules and cuddle my little guy in my arms the last hour I sleep.  Go ahead and judge!  I LOVE IT!

My little man is a morning person!  That makes 2 morning person kids in this house!  Mama---not such a morning person!  Or a middle of the night person.  Frankly I'm more of a sleep all the time person.

So on my 2nd cup of coffee, with 3 kids dragging themselves to the bathroom to get ready for the 1st day back after spring break, and my little guy bouncing his butt off in his Precious Planet, Thank GOD for this contraption, Bouncer seat...I am sitting down to have a little sane time before chaos hits for the week.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."  A truer statement never was uttered. 
We have a deal in this house...it was my plan and I stand by it being a good one.

My husband does not get up with the baby at night.  I repeat, he DOES NOT GET UP AT NIGHT WITH THE BABY.  Period.  *GASP!!!*  Yeah, I know.  I have gotten side eyes, curled lips, blank stairs, and flat out "WHAT?!?" comments from moms.  Most of whom immediately got the exact same handed to them by their husbands.
It's not that I'm trying to make life harder for other moms.  Its just that this works for me.

I get to stay home.  STAY HOME.  I don't have to get in the shower at 6:30 am and drag my ass to some office, bask in neon lighting all day, answer to ANYONE, or do the daily drive home.  There is no measure of the appreciation I have for my husband for going out every day and bringin home the bacon and letting me run the roost and raise our brood.  Oh yeah...we live in the country, where roosts and broods abound!!

Look, it's very simple.  My husband is a truck driver.  Not just any truck driver, he does specialized oversize hauling...he hauls BIG ass stuff! 

OK not THAT BIG.  But realistically-things twice the width and length of normal semi-trailers.

With that job comes BIG ASS responsibility!  And I want my husband home safe to me every night!  If he was a desk jockey I might not be so willing to get up every 2-3 hours every night, but his career being what it is, its not worth risking him going into work tired! 
And what do I do all day?  I hang out!  Yeah I vacuum, dust, do laundry, dishes...but come on...how hard is that?  I could do that with my eyes shut, sawing logs!  Spring is coming, the yard needs to be cleaned...mowing will start soon but still...EASY PEASY!  My job is 24/7 but far less stressful than his. 
Doing it on fewer hours of sleep is not that bad.

The upside (for me) to this deal, is that on weekends, my husband gets up with the little guy when he gets up at 8.  That's actual WAKE UP time for him...not just feed and back to sleep.  I am then free to sleep until I feel like getting up.  Trust me-this is worth its weight in gold to me.  Not ONLY do I get to sleep in, I get the bed to myself!!!  Well...with the exception of this lovely lady:

So it goes at our home.  Mama gets up at night.  Daddy makes the money.  Mama cooks & cleans and loves almost every second of it.

Little man taunted me last week, sleeping through the night 2 nights in a row, but a giant UP YOURS to reflux...it has him up every 3 hours again.  So I'll sleep through the night when I'm dead.  And while I'm in the land of the living, I will mainline coffee and Diet Mt. Dew...love the idea of naps but never take the time to take one...and fly through life trying NOT to look like one of these:

Hrmmm...must have gotten my zombie pics mixed up!




Friday, March 26, 2010

Grooming, and I don't mean the dog!

I had a much needed date with a razor this afternoon!  My legs were beginning to resemble Germany's Black Forest.  Quality visual, huh?!

I mean, I'm sexy enough as it is with the constant drool stains, my Ode de Alimentum fragrance, Palmolive chapped construciton worker-esque hands, and lets not forget that lovely c-section tummy puff that won't go away...I just had to get rid of the 30 grit sandpaper legs, lest I should have trouble keeping my husband's hands off me!

So as I'm on my second leg, and debating what other areas require some attention...I remembered a link that someone posted on a parenting board last week.  I found myself laughing so hard that I cut my ankle.  Ah, lovely!

I will share:  http://www.myfoxtampabay.com/dpps/news/dpgoh-megan-mariah-barnes-crashes-while-shaving-bikini-area-fc-20100308_6447120

YES you're reading the link right (that is if cat-like curiosity hasn't already forced you to click it!)

WOMAN CRASHES CAR WHILE SHAVING BIKINI AREA!!!!

 You can't make this shit up!

Where do I even begin?!? 

For starters, I have to say, after looking at the mug shot a few times...that I really feel a slightly overgrown bikini region would be FAR less obvious than the 3 inches of dark roots SCREAMING from the top of her head.  That's really all I have to say about that.


Second.  I don't know what would possess anyone to shave their bikini area in the car.  Even if I wasn't driving, this would be the last place I would think to do this type of grooming.  Aside from the fact that a 95 Thunderbird is not a stretch limo and would likely require yoga poses which I am just not advanced enough to get my butt into...and never mind the fact that she had to yoga herself around a steering wheel WHILE still pressing on the gas pedal (forget the brake-she obviously did!) there is still the issue of BUMPS.  Yeah, a vehicle doing 45 mph is uhm...less...shall I say fixed, than a bath tub or shower!  Not a risk I'm willing to take.  OH and I'm married to a trucker...I know they see some crazy things looking down into cars...I wouldn't want to share a view of the deforestation of my nether regions with Rubberduck!

Third and possibly the most intriguing part of this whole story to me, WHY was her ex-husband with her on her way to meet with her new boyfriend whom she obviously planned to have uh...relations with?  I have to be honest, I've never been divorced but had my husband, back in our courting days, brought his ex-wife with him to meet up with me, I would have been done with that relationship.  You have to wonder what the ex-husband knew...didn't know...thought he was doing in the car with this woman...and why she told him she needed to shave her privates and like...right then!"

There must have been a sense of urgency to this visit that I just can not grasp.  If infact I DID need to meet my boyfriend and if infact I DID need to shave my crotch, and if infact I DID feel like taking my ex-husband with me for some unknown reason, I would-oh I don't know-STOP AT A GAS STATION OR FAST FOOD JOINT AND DO IT IN A BATHROOM STALL!!!!!

Last but not least, as I sit here with a paper towel on my still gushing ankle, I feel that one thing has been left out of this report.  Did she, or did she not, gash the ever loving hell out of herself with the razor when she smacked the back of the pickup at 45, because I gotta tell you...I slammed on my brakes at 30 last week and dumped hot cappucino ALL over myself and my driver's side of my car.  I sure as hell would think that some injury would have come out of this entire episode!

God bless Trooper Dunick for remaining vigilant about his job in the face of one of the most hysterical and stupid human stories I have ever heard.  His words will be a reminder to all of us who laugh at this dumb bottle blonde  "I know there's a funny side to this, but it's also deadly serious. This is a scary road and a lot of bad wrecks are caused by dumb stuff like this."

Dumb stuff this.  I've got nothing else!

A Bliss Like This

Wednesday night was date night! YAY DATE NIGHT!


I dolled myself up. We don't get date night very often! Black deep v-neck tank top (hello jugs!!), 2 tone blue/turquois runners style jacket, new skinnIER (yeah still fighting that baby belly) jeans, and 3" stiletto pointy toed super sexy boots. I couldn't wear the new stilettos-they make me taller than the hubby! I recently got this choppy shorter, very layered hair cut that I love-it always has that tossled look to it! Make up is an every day affair for me, but I took some extra time with it. I think I looked pretty damn good, if I may say so myself!

We were early to the show (Ron White-freakin hysterical!) and had to hang out in the lobby for a while. We met up with a friend of ours and his uhm...off again, on again...kind of sort of, not really girlfriend. Yeah, one of those. I'm sure she's a nice enough girl but 1st impressions are everything and this chick did NOT make a good 1st impression on me. Sitting on my front porch, bashing his recently ex'd girlfriend who I'm friends with is NOT the way to win me over. No good 1st impression=I don't like you. I'm a bitch like that.

I ran up to the will-call window to see when the doors would be opening to let us in, then made my way through the crowd back to the group. Upon finding no seat on the bench they were resting on, I flung a leg up over my hubby's lap and sat down on his legs facing him. Most husbands I know would have let out and "UHG!" or an "OOOF!" but not mine. He got that devilish smirk on his face, grabbed one butt cheek in each hand and kissed me. Sorry sis-in-law! If you're reading this-just get a barf bag, it'll be over soon!

After a minute of not paying attention to anyone else around us, total high school kids making out in the hall between classes style, we realized we were being rude. Shit happens people. We have 4 kids. Deal with our momentary "US" moment! We had about a 15 minute wait until the doors were to open to let people in for seating...but lucky for us, Fatty's (a kick ass local bar) was serving "refreshments" at the show. I took Ms. On again-Off again with me to get beers for everyone.

As we approached the make-shift bar, she looked at me and asked "How do you do it?"

"What? Walk in heels? These aren't that big! You should see my new ones!!" Yea... if its not toddling, teething, or screaming at sisters, I'm oblivious!

She rolled her eyes and announced she could walk in heels too. GOOD FOR YOU! She cocked her head to the side, held her money out for the bartender and said "How do you keep the spark? You guys act like you're a new couple, still full of young lust! Nate and I couldn't keep that and we were only together for 4 months!" (Names have been changed to protect no one at all but for the hell of it! Just FYI).

I didn't know. I shrugged and said, "My husband's hot! Guess we're just still THAT in love."

She shook her head, "Man, if I ever find that kind of love, I will NEVER let it go!"

As we walked back to the guys my mind wandered. I had never really realized that what we have is THAT different. We talk sometimes about how at 15 yrs old we KNEW we were meant to be together. That's something very few people can say. That was SUPPOSED to be part of my vows at our wedding but uhm...Ms. I'm So Good At Speaking In Public...went 'deer in the headlights' and blanked and then completely out of desperation pretty much repeated what he said! QUALITY! We were, back in high school, that Romeo & Juliette couple! When my parents banned me from seeing him we snuck around. When I went on my 1st big photo trip 2 YEARS LATER...my mom thought I was running off to meet up with him, and was scared I was never coming back. She didn't tell me this until about 3 years ago, at which point I laughed hysterically! The idea never crossed my mind at that time. But you can see, how crazy our love was back then...that my mom would think he would fly to Wyoming from Chicago to meet me and run off with me 2 years after we broke up!

Back to the story, we talk about how even though we went our separate ways, fate or God or a persistant me bound to get back the best thing I ever had, brought us back together years later. We talk a lot about how cool it is that the crazy passionate high school kid chaotic love that we had for eachother when we were young, is still burning. Ahhhhhhhhhh we talk about how cool it is that the crazy passionate high school kid chaotic love that we had for eachother when we were young, is still burning!!! It's not, punch a girl who looks at him the wrong way, kind of crazy anymore...ehhhhhhhh, well I suppose that depends.

I guess I just never looked at it as something others would see as unique.

All the way through the show I thought about what she said. Don't get me wrong, I know how lucky I am. I guess hearing it from someone else, someone who's not around you much, makes you realize even more that you're very blessed.

On the way out of the show I grabbed her by the arm. I told her this:

"Don't be inhibited in your love.
Love 110% no matter what. Don't be scared that the other person doesn't love you as much. Love them like its the last day you have to love them.
Be honest. Be open. Its cliche but freakin communicate!
If its meant to be, it will make you happy to make him happy and when making him happy makes you happy you want to do it more and more and the more you do it, the happier you both are.
Don't care about what others think of you or your relationship. Be proud that he (Whoever he is) loves you for exactly what you are, if he didn't he wouldn't be with you...and if he tries to change anything about you then he doesn't love you for who you are and he should go play in traffic!
If other's don't like your PDAs or your innuendos tell them to get bent! Love their jealousy and let it fuel the fire you have or eachother. Other's wanting what you have is HOT!
Hold hands, smack his ass at inopportune moments, kiss the back of his neck when he's cooking, run up and throw your arms around him when he gets home BECAUSE YOU WANT TO! Not because someone suggested it. Never stop flirting! And if you have to TELL yourself to do any one of these things...if you have to remember to do it and it doesn't come naturally...then keep lookin because then the passion isn't there, and you can't manufacture it...it just has to BE."

She just stared at me blankly. Maybe my wisdom was lost on her. Maybe she had no idea what I was saying. But she asked, and God help you if you ask me something-you will get the answer whether you like it or not.

At home we checked on all the kids, sleeping soundly except for little man-he keeps late hours. When we crawled in bed that night "I love you" sounded a little...more special. Knowing you have something others not only admire but crave for themselves is flattering. We love eachother because we LOVE eachother, not because its the cool thing to do or because we like being "that couple"...but its kind of fun to know that what we have is not an every-day love...at least not to others.


Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Epic Shopping Therapy

There are days that you go shopping and find squat...and then there are days like yesterday.

I hit the town with my Mama to celebrate her completing National Boards and to do some much needed shopping therapy.  DSW was a must.  My recent blog posts and FB statuses have been chalked full of one liners from Boondock Saints II.  Great movie.  And Eunice Bloom has impecible taste...especially in shoes!
Case & point:

Her red bottom stiletto heels were flat out fantastic.  I had to own some.

A shopping trip later, I am the proud owner of a pair of 5" Steve Maddens with peep toes.
Not exactly the Bloom special but my God are the spectacular! 

Yup.  Delish!  I tower over my husband by almost 3 inches with these on!  Hello tall woman fantasy!
I do have to admit, they're more comfy than expected and I LOVE being 6'1"!
I think I may have to wear these when I do my spring cleaning this week!  Eliminate the need for a step stool! HAH!

What trip would be complete without a little noshing on grub?  We hit Noodles and Co. for some Pasta Fresca and Penne Rosa.  They really need one of these places out by me!  I can't wait to get completely out of this hick town and back to civilization.  Yeah, I'm going to miss the people we met and the laid back life style...I'm going to miss flying around town at 45 on my dirt bike and the cops not caring...I'm going to miss seeing people ride horses down my street (although I won't miss the giant shit pile the horse left by our yard).  But man, to be close to restaurants and docs offices and such and to double our square footage!  BRING ON THE MOVING BOXES!  Actually-they will be here tomorrow!

I finished the shopping trip off with some cute FLAT sandals, a few outfits for the kids thanks to the Gap's 30% off and Leukemia donation sale.

There is no therapy like shopping therapy when it comes to easing a woman's stresses. 
Gotta love a man who stays home, takes care of 4 kids, does 3 loads of laundry, all the dishes, and when you get home you find this:

OH yes, he's vacuuming...and so sexy doing it!

So as spring nears, the flea market reopens, the roads are less icy (not that ice ever stopped me) and the birds are singing...another year of epic mommy shopping begins with a bang and a super successful day.  Thanks to my mother in law (who totally wont approve of the heels) for a DSW gift card which helped ease my buyers remorse.

Until next time-go find some amazing shoes!

Saturday, March 20, 2010

"A Good Wife's Guide"

There is something to be said about the old days.  The way families ran, the housewife, the working man.  Beaver Cleaver and the whole 9 yards. 
Times were simpler and life was less dramatic!

I will admit, I'm a hardcore "I am woman hear me roar!" type of gal.  I won't be told what to do by anyone, husband included.  A gentle suggestion goes a lot further than an order.  Orders get shut down at the door.

So here's a snippet from Housekeeping Monthly's May 13, 1955; and my take on each of these items:
(Thanks to my friend Tabitha for posting this!)


I know, I know its small!  I will lay it all out for you.


1.  Have dinner ready.  Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready,  on time for his return.  This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs.  Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.

2.  Prepare yourself.  Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives.  Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh  looking.  He has just been with a lot of work weary people.

3.  Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him.  His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.

4.  Clear away the clutter.  Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.  Gather up school books, toys, paper etc and run a dustcloth over the tables.

5.  Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare a light fire for him to unwind by.  Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too.  After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

6.  Prepare the children.  Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they're small), comb their hair and if necessary, change their clothes.  They are little treasures  and he would like to see them playing the part.  Minimize all noise.  At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum.  Try to encourage the children to be quiet.

7.  Be happy to see him.

8.  Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

9.  Listen to him.  You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time.  Let him talk first-remember his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

10.  Make the evening his.  Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you.  Instead try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.

11.  Your goal:  try to make your home a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

12.  Don't greet him with complaints and problems.

13.  Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night.  Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.

14.  Make him comfortable.  Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom.  Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

15.  Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes.  Speak in a low soothing and pleasant voice.

16.  Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity.  Remember he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness.  You have no right to question him.

17.  A good wife knows her place.

OK Now that you've had time to take that all in, lets bring this into the year 2010!

1. Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.  This I have no problem with as a general rule.  I am a stay at home mom/wife.  I DO work from home but on my own schedule.  90% of the time dinner is ready or being made when he gets home.  Its just part of what I do to say thanks for bringin home the bacon.


2. Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. I like this idea.  15 minutes to chill!  HELL YES!  Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking.  A RIBBON?!?  REALLY?!?!  What am I...a doll baby?!?  I don't think so!  Although I do usually make sure I don't look like an extra from The Night of The Living Dead.   He has just been with a lot of work weary people.  And PLEASE!  He works with truckers and construction workers.  I could wear flannel pajamas and look sexy compared to those guys! 

3. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.  Well, I'm an entertaining kinda gal, so this one is easy!  Aside from that, you've gotta just love how terms change over the years.  I know a lot of husbands who would love for their wives to be a little gay...and not in the way it was meant in the 50's!

4. Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Gather up school books, toys, paper etc and run a dustcloth over the tables.  Done & Done most of the time.  I'm a clutter freak!  I HATE clutter.  We have rules, if you're done playing with it, put it away BEFORE you get something else out.  That goes for the adults too.  Whatever I'm working on, gets put away when I'm finished with it.  Great way to minimize clutter.  As for dusting...that's just not going to happen every day.

5. Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare a light fire for him to unwind by. Yeah a fireplace is on the list for the new house! Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.  Uhm.  Yeah!  I do get satisfaction out of making sure my husband is happy, but there's something about the way this is worded...I wouldn't say CATERING to ANYONE gives me immense personal satisfaction!

6. Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they're small), comb their hair and if necessary, change their clothes. Who realy has time for this?  If my kids are dirty, like DIRTY DIRTY, especially the baby, I change their clothes when they get dirty...so that's not really an issue.  As a general rule the kids are playing when hubby comes home...they all brush their hair after school anyway so they usually look just fine.  They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimize all noise. Unlikely.  We have 4 kids, a dog, and a very vocal cat.  Minimizing is still louder than most people's homes.  At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.  We use indoor voices...that's good enough!  If I shut off the washer and dryer just because he came home-laundry would NEVER get done! 

7. Be happy to see him.  I'm always happy to see him!  He's the love of my life!  If I wasn't happy to see him, that would mean I married the WRONG person!

8. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.  My husband saw this one and said "hell yes!" 

9. Listen to him. I'll do my best.  You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Hmmm...sometimes it IS the time to tell him.  Let him talk first-remember his topics of conversation are more important than yours.  WRONG!  Welcome to 2010...my thoughts and opinions are just as important as his. 

10. Make the evening his. I bust my ass all day.  The kids bust their butts in school.  The evening is everyone's.  We enjoy it TOGETHER.  Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you. We all need "ME" time.  As long as he isn't out every night, I don't mind him goin out with the boys every now and then.  Instead try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.  If he needs to be home and relax, why would he be out?  AH WRITER...YOU CONTRADICT YOURSELF!

11. Your goal: try to make your home a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.  Hell...I want my home to be a place of peace, order, and tranquility where I can renew myself!  That's what master suites and "relax time" are for!

12. Don't greet him with complaints and problems.  Agreed.  No one wants to come home and be bombarded instantly with problems.  Give the guy a minute or 2 to settle in, THEN hit him with "suzie got in trouble at school and mary won't do her homework and little johnny smashed your grandma's lamp today...and I think I'm pregnant again...".  *Note:  NO I AM NOT PREGNANT AGAIN!*

13. Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. If he stays out all night, me complaining is going to be the LAST of his worries.  Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.  Yeah...horse shit!

14. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom.  As I type, my husband is vacuuming.  He will make himself comfortable when he wants. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him. Given time to do so, this is a great idea.  How about a cold one for me too!

15. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. He damn well better have taken his work boots off OUTSIDE!  I'm not cleaning up all that mud!  Speak in a low soothing and pleasant voice.  Lauren Bacall, baby!

16. Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. I'll ask him what I damn well want to ask him and he BETTER have answers for me.  If I have reason to question his actions, we have problems.  Better yet how about marrying someone who's integrity and judgement you know you will not NEED to question!  Remember he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.  This is an idea best left in the 50's.  I won't even go into that.  I have every right.

17. A good wife knows her place.  And a good husband knows his. 

While a widely out of date article, there are some things to take away from it.  Don't be Debby Downer when your hubby gets home.  If youre a stay at home wife/mom, for the love of God take some pride in your house-keep it clean, do the laundry and dishes, don't let it be a place of chaos.  But don't just do it because you think its what you're supposed to do.  Do it because you want your home to be a nice place to be.  Do it for yourself as much as for anyone else.  Ask any man...no one wants to come home from work to a home that's filthy, dirty, cluttered, a complete wreck and a wife still in pajamas with no make up on because she's a lazy shit.  The same goes for stay at home dads. 

At the end of the day, thank God that my opinions and thoughts matter and that I'm a woman of the 21st century not the 1950's.  While the style and cars and greaser guys have a certain appeal to them...there's no way in hell I could have fit the Stepford Wife mold.

Friday, March 19, 2010

"Here's Your Sign"

This week's news has been full of stupid humans.  I am constantly shocked (although I suppose I shouldn't be) at how dumb people act!

Case #1:  Man sticks baby in oven and leaves it there overnight (don't worry he didn't turn it on!)
http://www.cnn.com/2010/CRIME/03/16/kentucky.oven.baby/index.html?hpt=Sbin

The short version:  guy gets high on LSD laced marijuana and drunk on whiskey, hallucinates, puts baby in oven instead of crib, goes to bed (left oven door part way open, and didn't turn it on - THANK GOD!) and doesn't realize this until he hears baby crying in the morning. 

Where to start?
Hmmm how bout this...DONT SMOKE LSD LACED MARIJUNANA, or any for that matter.  Sorry I'm not a pro-pot person.  And/or don't drink an entire bottle of whiskey!  And if you DO choose to do said activities, make sure the other adult in the house isn't already passed out drunk...leaving NOONE to care for baby!  What a waste of oxygen...and perfect example of why I believe in forced sterilization!

I DO give the guy a TINY bit of credit for calling an ambulance to have the baby checked out once he realized what he had done.  Despite his epic stupidity, there was some concern there for the child.  He also checked himself into a center to get help...again, some small credit for not only seeing that he had a problem but also admitting to it and getting help. 

Case #2 Jesse Freakin James...YOU STUPID ASS!
You had a gorgeous, funny, stabile woman who HELPED YOU GET CUSTODY OF YOUR CHILD!!!!  You threw it out for some trashy, white supremesist, fetish stripper?!?  Oooooooooooooooooh she judges!  The broad, who obviously knew about Sandra, sold the story of her 11 month affair for $30,000.00!!!  She uses her son's name as her stripper stage name-DISGUSTING!!  HELL YES, I JUDGE! 
And Jesse, COME ON!  Bullock stood by your side as you fought the Blink 182 nurse to save your child from a druggy mom who slept all day and left your kid unattended!  She stopped working so she could be home with you and the kids because of the drama and because things were so bad!  She deserves better.
Jesse's attorney stated "Mr. James' sole concern is for the safety, welfare and best interests of his daughter."  Really?  Was shackin up with nazi girl in the best interest of your daughter?  Cuz the way I see it, the only stabile woman she had in her life (Yeah, that would be Sandra) is now out of her life!  WAY TO GO!


On a personal level, Jesse's ex disgusts me.  Her claims that she is "the best mother I can be" and statements that Jesse and Bullock should "come over and sit down for dinner so we can talk" make me throw up in my mouth a little.  Too close to home.  Ya know what, its simple.  If the best mother you can be is one who passes out f'ed up and leaves your kids alone-then youre NOT GOOD ENOUGH.  End of story.  Give up custody, go to rehab, play in traffic, I don't care but that is not an acceptable way to raise children.  And come on, 'sit down to dinner'.  ACK.  That's like sending a box of pans with the teflon scratched off, picture frames missing the glass, and bath towels with stains on them to your ex and his new wife and claiming that you're "giving them household items to help them start their new life".  We don't live in a cardboard box, I prefer NICE THINGS, please don't use us as your garbage can.  Although, the cookie jars & vases made great shooting targets!  False kindness is grotesque and obnoxious.

  vs

No contest if you ask me.  Yeah there can be a certain something sexy about SOME tattooed women...sorry "Bombshell"...you ain't got it!


I don't care what your reasoning is; as a mom I have NO sympathy...I repeat NO SYMPATHY, for anyone who's stupidity or ego gets the better of them when children are involved.

If you choosing drugs and whiskey over caring for your child; you are a loser and if you lose custody I don't feel bad for you for a second.
If you choosing to have an affair and run off your child's caring stepmother; don't cry later about how hard it is being a single dad and how it hurt your child to lose Sandra...you obviously didn't care a bit about whether losing her stepmom would hurt her or not.
It goes this way all over the place.  Disturbing examples of the human race put themselves before their kids, their desires before their kids, their need to try to hurt others before their kids. 
A person's love for their child should be more important than anything; definitely more than making a bitchy comment about someone's weight.

No question my love for my step kids has kept my teeth clamped tightly down on my tongue for years.  That's why my husband loves me, well part of it.  That and because "I am so fvcking smart that I make smart people feel like they are retarded!"  (Anyone know what movie that's from?)  There is nothing I can say to those that grasp desperately at causing problems, that would make me feel any better than it does knowing that my stepkids are safely in our care.  Yup.  I'm wearin' my big girl panties.  *pat myself on the back*
Breaks my heart that more people don't seem to have a pair of those in their drawers. 




Wednesday, March 17, 2010

3 steps beyond what not to wear

Tell me...That mother...is NOT...dropping her kid off at school at 1pm in fluffy bunny slippers!
TELL ME SHE'S NOT!

Oh but she was!
I get out of my car today and this woman, who irritates me beyond words for reasons other than her wardrobe which is consistanly 3 sizes too small and straight from the early 90's, comes walking toward me with fluffy bunny slippers.  I don't mean slender slippers with little bunny faces on them, I mean 8" wide huge puffy bunnies with ears flopping all over the ground! 

I look down at Miss Priss and say "Dude...check the bunny slippers!"  In her infinite 5 yr old wisdom she says "Yeah, those are NOT appropriate for wearing out of the house."  I crack up!  Then I state, "I'm so going to have to blog about fluffy bunny slippers today!"  Miss Priss says, "YEAH you are!"

I quietly tell her that we should stop talking about the bunnies so as not to hurt anyone's feelings once we get in the school.  She raises an eyebrow and agrees.

Inside the vestibule of the school waiting for them to let us in, watching the other parents' faces was almost more than I could handle without laughing out loud! 
Just when I thought it couldn't get any better she turns around. 

HELLO MOON!

This woman who is probably early 30's, I would guess about 5'6" and somewhere around 220 lbs is not just wearing fluffy bunny slippers, she is also wearing jeans ripped from seam to seam across both ass cheeks...rips that envy even the best of the best from the grunge era!

Miss Priss noticed right away.  Her eyebrows both shot up, she spun her head around to me and before I could quiet her or shake my head no, she yells "WHOA, BABY!"

That was it for me!  I lost it!  I reached for my phone to take a picture of said fashion blunder and realized I had left it in the cup holder in my car...NOOOOOOOOOOO!  No joke, I wanted that photo for this blog post.  The woman who never goes anywhere without a camera...is tasting photo regret!

If this wasnt all bad enough I got stuck walking behind her to the classroom.  It was like the train wreck thing I talk about.  I couldn't look away.  It's mid March in northern Illinois.  She has NO tan.  Its like looking at a sheet of white paper!  Look I try not to judge.  I'm not a skinny bitch, haven't been since the invention of Doritos...but I buy clothes that fit me.  I avoid muffin-topping, side-boob-bulging, moose-knuckling, and the dreaded quadraboob (you know-when a bra is too tight and it makes the boob that's not in the bar bulge out further than the part in the bra, creating the effect of 4 boobs).  But when some other not so skinny, powder-esque, cottage cheese thighed girl forces her fat on my retinas, I'm sorry...let the judging begin!

There must have been something in the water today.  I drove past another girl wearing what appeared to be a hot pink beband OVER her shirt pulled up to her chest, a guy in shiney white dress shoes and jeans, and some kid already slammed drunk standing on the corner in a Leprechaun hat screaming "I'm BLOODY SEXY!" in what I THINK was supposed to be an Irish accent.  He failed.

Needless to say, I went home and checked my mirror.  My jeans still fit properly.  Phew!

No trainwreck here...and definitely no fluffy bunnies!

Monday, March 15, 2010

The Ides of March

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH.  That's what they say.  So out of curiosity I looked it up this morning...you know there is no historical reason to beware this day?  The term was used to describe the 15th of March, May, July and October; and the 13th of the other months.  The days were set aside for Pagan festivals during the days of the Roman empire.  The only reason March 15th was labeled as a bad day (from what research I have done in the whole 20 minutes I've been on my computer) is Ceasar's death and his lack of interest in warnings from a soothsayer.  "Beware the Ides of March" as a statement itself was coined by Shakespeare.

So in reality, the 15th or Ides of March, is a far cry from the ominous day that most people believe it is.  Some guy was stabbed by some friends a long long time ago.  He failed to heed a warning and the story of such became a famous play by a famous writer with a famous one liner that has passed down through time in a manner such as to freak people out for no reason.

Granted I'm not superstitious at all.

I will admit though, that today there is a sense of foreboding that I can not shake.  Not necessarily for me or my family...but just a general sense that not today specifically but this week is going to be big and bring big things.  Probably dramatic things. 

I just had to get that out there.  OOOOOOOOOO the Ides of March.  What a load of code brown!  Guess we'll just have to wait for August for a day that's REALLY supposed to be bad luck.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

PETA is the new Einsatzgruppen

During the days of the Holocaust, the Einsatzgruppen was essentially a mobile killing squad.  While their tasks included collecting documents and papers from every area the Nazi army invaded; their main job was to follow closely behind the invading army foundations (Wehrmacht), ordering Jewish and non-Jewish to assemble for deportation out of town.  Any opposing forces would be hunted down.  The Einsatzgruppen would take the Jews out into rural areas, woods, or into large buildings.  Often they would be confined prior to being killed.  The deathrates from starvation and malnutrition were extremely high.  Many of the victims were forced to dig mass graves prior to being shot and dumped into said graves. 
The Einsatzgruppen was also well known for their gas vans.  These mobile vehicles were used to euthanize victims.  The vehicles had air tight compartments in which victims were placed and gassed, usually with carbon monoxide.  They were used most highly at Chelmno extermination camp, but were available for use by the Einsatzgruppen during their invasion of the Soviet Union.


I'm not a psycho animal person.  I love my pets and would rescue more given the financial resources and room in my house...but I also own and proudly (and warmly) wear my mink coat during the winter.  I love my leather boots and I eat meat...all types of meat...deer, bear, bison, whatever.  I just wanted to put that out there before I went any further.  After the "save the puppies" posts and then this one...I didn't want any confusion.


Now I told you the Einsatzgruppen story so I could tell you this story:

In 2005 a g'vomitous news story hit stands.  Two PETA employees were charged with 31 felony counts of cruelty after authorities found the bodies of 18 animals that PETA had supposedly JUST rescued, tossed in a dumpster.  13 more bodies were found in a "euthanasia van" owned by and registered to PETA.

PETA owns "euthanasia vans"?!?!?! Brother in a time warp say WHAAAAAA???? (Sorry Miley, I HAD TO!)

An investigation soon showed that many of PETA's euthanised animals were healthy, and in some cases already up for adoption at shelters or vet clinics when they were "rescued" by the organization...only to be taken to the parking lot of the shelter they were just taken from, and then euthanized immediatley!

Excuse me for a moment...ok...I just threw up in my mouth a little!

USDA documents showed that PETA consistantly kills between 88% and 97% of the animals it "rescues" each year.  *Jaw on floor*
I knew these people were psycho...I just never knew they were psycho KILLERS!!!

Sadly the cruelty charges were dropped because the animals were euthanized via lethal injection-a legal means to dispatch unwanted pets.  Charges for tresspassing and illegal disposal of animal carcasses stuck.  A smack in the hand if you ask me!  PETA's statement on this event:  it was compassionate and necessary.

Yeah.  Necessary.  Necessary to take a mother cat and her kittens from a vet clinic where you KNOW someone will adopt; at minimum, the kittens...and take them to your van and kill them, then dump them in a dumpster!  WHACKOS!

Recent numbers were just released showing that in 2009, PETA "rescued" 2360 animals.  8 were adopted out to families. 
Let me say that again...8 WERE ADOPTED OUT TO FAMILIES...8....8....8!  Has that sunk in yet?  2,352 animals "rescued" by PETA were euthanized in 2009.  Over 90% of thier "rescues" were killed!

The website examiner.com states,
"PETA should be reclassified from an animal rights organization to a slaughterhouse."
I say:  AMEN!  These people who jump on stage at runway shows to tackle models who work with furiers; these people who fling red paint on civilian's fur coats; are the same ones who kill 90% of the animals they claim to rescue during the year.  WOW. 

To make this story even more disgusting...in 2009, the same year, PETA reported over $31 million in revenue, and $19 million in assets!  Why are they putting animals down?!?  Groups like HELP and TAILS take donations of food to make sure they can continue to feed their rescues, but PETA who has more money than they could ever need to feed under 3000 animals over the course of a year, puts them down?!?  ASININE!

The numbers digust me!  Thanks to my friend Jan for pissing me off bad enough this morning with a link to examiner.com's articles on PETA, that I felt I needed to blog about it. 
PETA, you whackadoodles need to get your heads checked.  Stop Goose-stepping around acting like you're for the animals.  You sickos are just psycho serial killers with a license to get away with it!  SIEG HEIL ya bitches!  You disgust me.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Holy Moldy Batman!

Alright, not really moldy...I keep my house (fridge included) pretty clean...but WOW. 
Today was refridgerator cleaning day!

I hate that day!  Its the day that I go from "Wow I have no room for anything else in here!" to "Wow I have been neglecting my shopping duties...we have no freakin food!" in a matter of minutes.

Last night I was literally having trouble finding room for my little one's overnight bottles, and as of this afternoon there are 3 pkgs of shredded cheese (one for tonight's dinner), 3 gallons of milk (those never last long), a few packages of cold meat, some veggies, and a door full of condiments.
Now that's not to say we have no food...my chest freezer is packed full, but man!  I could fit a body in my fridge. 
*stares off into space in contemplation of said idea...*

Speaking of bodies in fridges...(how often do you get to use that segway?!?) on the way home from taking my youngest step daughter to school, I passed a fridge on the side of the road...laying doors down...with what appeared to be fabric coming out of it.  I made a call to the police non-emergency number and let them know it was there and that it could be a hazard if any kids decided to upright it and play in it...but yeah...creepy!

Back to my cleaning...

I have disposed of more ziplock containers of left overs than I care to disclose.  Multiple containers of home made dips & snacks from a party last weekend.  Half of a cake left over from my oldest's bday (ewww-that was a week and a half old!) and about 5 opened and half consumed sticks of butter; which for some reason, the idea of eating after they've been open on plates in the fridge and melted partially at least once-just grosses me out.

I would move onto the pantry but I'm afraid that it would eat me.  It was organized once upon a time...then I was put on bedrest for a month and a half...then I had a baby via hardcore major c-section...then my baby had some issues...and here we are today...pantry completely disheveld and me blogging instead of organizing.  Such is life! 

I have a matter of minutes until Moose wakes up, at which point he will undoubtedly require food IMMEDIATELY lest he should have to wail like a fire truck...after which I will likely take more adorable pictures of him (must do St. Patty's day pics!) and then have bath time! YAY!

Cleaning the fridge...yet another not so pleasant domestic job I love to hate...
Could be worse...ask my mom.  Note to everyone reading...NEVER EVER unplug an old fridge and let it sit for a few days before you move it.  If (God Forbid) any meat had at some point leaked in its package...and perhaps run down along the groves where the shelves fit in...and perhaps been undetectable and frozen as said old fridge liked to run too cold and freeze things at the back...and you let said fridge sit for a few days...the smell will be HORRIBLE!  Le Barf!

That's your public service announcement for today.

Happy House-keeping!

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Grand Pianos, Handicapped Sass & My Tara Reid Moment

I neglected by blogging duties yesterday because I had a domesticly packed day of cleaning, cooking, and getting ready for my kiddo's spring sing!  Ah the spring sing...a chance for parents to pack together like cattle in a hot and poorly ventilated OR freezing cold and over airconditioned (depending on the venue) auditorium and listen to their kids croon away songs that kids have been singing at spring sings for generations. 

We had no more sat down and little guy needed a change.  I hopped up and headed off to find a proper place...guess what...college music dept bathrooms apparently do not come equipt with changing tables.  I looked for a place with some chairs that was somewhat private (I am not a fan of babies junk being out all over the place with a ton of people around!) and of course came up empty handed...untilllllllll I walked past a room that was open and empty.  I ducked into it, and there was NOTHING to change him on...except a big old black grand piano.  The former pianist in me (10 1/2 years of lessons...quit 15 years ago and can still play quite well) cringed at the thought of changing a baby on such a beautiful instrument.  But the mom in me, said "Screw these guys...they can't provide a place for someone to change a baby?!" and went for it!  Half way through Moose started to giggle...high class baby...grand piano changing table!

I got back to the seat just in time to hear a guy ask one of my mothers-in-law to move my diaper bag off my seat.  I stood back and listened as she said, "I'm sorry, someone is sitting here." 

The guy INSTANTLY got an attitude and spat back, "No, there's a bag sitting there!"

My mother-in-law very politely stated, "She just ran to change her baby, she will be right back...actually, there she is right behind you."

The guy didn't even turn around and look at me.  He said, "Well, I'm handicapped and need to sit down."
\
Now I am all about helping out those in need.  At 6 months pregnant (and I was a BIG 6 months pregnant) in 100 degree weather and 90% humidity after walking around Disney World ALL DAY with swollen feet, I got out of my seat on the monorail to let an elderly lady sit down.  I'm not an asshole.  But I had just followed this guy into the auditorium and he had no limp, no cane/walker/etc, and wreaked of booze.  Not to say that he was lying, but he definitely didn't APPEAR to be handicapped.

Mother-in-law very sweetly said "I'm sorry, I ..." and before she could finish her statement...AND before I could step up and say "No problem, Moose is fussy so I am probably just going to stand anyway," which was exactly what I was going to say...this guy yells, "Well APPARENTLY being FUCKING handicapped doesn't FUCKING mean a thing anymore!" 

Without missing a beat I looked at him and said, "Maybe not, but being an asshole does!  And being handicapped doesn't give you a right to BE an asshole."

My mother-in-law's jaw dropped.  Yeah...I only LOOK innocent and sweet.  My mom, sitting a few seats down, snickered and shook her head.  She knows me.  She knew long before I opened my mouth that I wouldn't stay quiet and let this guy cuss out anyone with me.  I guarantee you, if my husband had been sitting down at that end of the row, the guy wouldn't have said 2 words to us...but that's neither here nor there. 

The guy backed off and sat down on the ground.  ON THE GROUND...sending me into a state of stupor and confusion and shattering my image of the handicapped.  I never did sit back down in the seat.  And the guy never did either. 

The show started and the guy ended up walking a few rows down and sitting in an empty seat.  The songs were cute and the kids were doing a great job.  No tripping, only a few 'baby waves', and the typical little girl who shoves other kids out of the way and curtseys 100 times.

Then there is the always anticipated recorder concert event!  This year, I had a child involved in the recorder concert!  OH JOY!  For months we have heard her working away at it in her bedroom-practicing.  I expected it to be far more painful to listen to than it was-the kid's pretty good at recorder!  Not 2 seconds into the recorder song at the show last night, my 3 month old started to WAIL.  My sentiments exactly!  I was more than happy to take him for a little walk at the entrance to the auditorium...but we stayed where we could see...you absolutely can NOT miss a performance like this and get away with it!

After the recorder event, the fussing got worse and we took a walk out in the lobby.  The handicapped guy had made his way out there.  Believe it or not, he apologized.  His girlfriend 'googoo gaga'd' over the baby for a few minutes and I walked over to talk to a mom I recognized.  Big mistake!

I knew this woman was...a little off...as some would put it.  The 2 times I have spoken to her before, neither lasting more than 2 minutes; were a mind boggling bombardment of information about her son, how screwed up her life and her marriage are, and the fact that the school labeled her son as a bad kid and "persecutes him" (I hate that term.  99% of the time anyone who uses that term in any context other than talking about Jesus Christ himself, is straight up full of shit).  Today she decided to tell me all about her son's birth and how he "ruined her".  Suffice it to say, that after 6 minutes of my head spinning, desperately trying to find a reason to walk away, and having to overcome the urge to poke myself in the eye...I walked away knowing the gory details of birthing her devil spawn and the subsequent 3 years of contractions and her eventual hysterectomy.  I kid you not.  This woman who I have met for a grand total of 4 minutes prior to last night...shared her entire medical history with me.  #1 totally unnecessary and #2 ewww.

Finally as she went into her next story I got my excuse to leave!  I was wearing a black stretchy shirt with a very deep scooped cowl neck-the kind that shows a ton of cleavage.  Mistake #1.  Who wears something like that with an infant in arms?!?

(insert my desire to NOT be so domestic...you will never catch me in mom jeans with frump butt and a sweater vest of any kind.  HELL NO & Thank you!  I prefer to remain sexy in my husband's eyes!)

So, my wonderful little man provided me (just as 2 dads I know from the school walked by) with a straight up, no bullshit, anything but subtle Tara Reid moment!  HELLO BOOBIE!  I guess it wasn't TOTALLY a TR moment-I was wearing a bra, and thankfully one of the same color as my shirt, but that wasn't enough to stop some eyebrows from being raised by dad #1as Hysterectomy Mom says "Oh, I think your kid is hungry!"

Awesome!  Just awesome!  The kid is bottle fed, has been from day one pretty much, but she didn't know that, so I took the opening and excused myself. 

After the show I filled my husband in on everything.  The major sass from the 'handicapped' guy, who's level of handicapability I still question...the medical history on evil boy's mom...and the amazing flashing of a few parents.  He got a kick out of it...said its unfortunate that he missed the latter.

We collected the kids, hugged the grandparents good-bye and headed off for the night.  But not before I got a crack in the backside and wink from my husband who smiled that devilishly handsome smile and said "Hottest mom here...hands down!"  Aww!

The moral of the story:  men love a woman who can stand up for herself, keep her infant calm, be there to support her kids, flash some dads, and maintain her integrity and poise while doing it all!  And THAT'S how it's done ladies!  One more school event finished...one more story to tell...one more moment of fighting that domesticity and coming up shining!

Monday, March 8, 2010

Ladies & Gentlemen-Direct your attention to the High Wire!!!!

Today is one of those days!
*Busts out the uni-cycle, little dog in a clown hat, and balancing rod*
My to do list is a MILE long!  Maybe longer! 
Groceries, faxing stuff, business work to do, applications to fill out, boxes to pack & unpack, plus the usual: laundry/dishes/run the vacuum, etc.

BUT....today is my son's 3 month birthday!  The mommy in me wants to just cuddle him all day.  The photographer in me wants to just shoot pics of him all day.  The DG in me knows that I have to get all the other junk done...I hate days like today!  Up with the sun, off on the run!

Kids are in school and while the little man sleeps...and I SHOULD be running the vacuum...I am blogging.  Go figure.

So though duty calls, I'm balancing out some ME time!  NO worries though...I will get the house cleaned, the laundry run, dishes washed and dinner started (because frankly if I didn't, I'd be reminiscent of my husband's last wife...nooooooooo good-a!).

***   ***   ***   ***   Insert long break from computer here  ***   ***   ***   ***  

After much deliberation and some time away from this post, I shot some pics of the kiddo AAAAAAAAAAnd got the laundry run, dishes run, and house vacuumed.  Dinner isn't started but the hubby is buried in a virtual graveyard of trailers that should have been demo'd long ago but keep being re-chestered back to life...so he won't be home for a while.  Dinner can wait!  That's why God created the "After School Snack" (please note, I said that out loud-with a deep booming voice while imaging heavenly music playing in the background).  PHEW! 

I should be wiped out but I've been main lining coffee & Mt Dew!  So check out a couple of pics from my shoot session with Moose while I get back to getting things done before my love gets home!




OK ladies!  I'm off to balance a LITTLE bit more before Big Daddy gets home!  LATER!

Friday, March 5, 2010

Sex & Media

I've been too old to read trash magazines like Cosmo for a long long time.  But out of curiosity and boredum the other day, I picked a copy up at the check out stand.

God help me...the time it took me to read it, was a couple hours of my life I will NEVER get back!  And yes..I read it all.  Cover to cover.  It was like a train wreck!  I couldn't look away.  What's worse is when the house was quiet and everyone was sleeping and I was wide awake (damn that last cup of coffee I just HAD to have!) I got on their site to look up a quiz.  STUPID!

Do you believe they have a sex blog?  A SEX BLOG!  I'm all about blogging but that's where I draw the line.  Although out of morbid curiosity I clicked on it...no joke...it sounded like it was written by a 15 yr old.  And that's just the beginning.
I quote from one of the posts "Whatever, you were totally checking out my weiner."

As we would say on thebump.com :HeadDesk:
You have got to be kidding me!  THIS is what 20 somethings are reading? 

This sad sad discovery of lack of intellectual stimulation lead me down the road to the rest of the website who's highlights are as follows:

"Ask him anything" is my absolute favorite.  I want to get paid to answer these questions...well if you can call them questions...most of them are just open ended statements!  My answers would go something like this:

Q:  He never comes up with ideas of his own.



A:  He's a moron...find someone new

Q:  I've always been really scared of getting an STD.



A:  Don't be a whore, & you won't get one
 
Q:  I always see guys approach girls who are far less attractive than I am.

A:  Check your breath
Q:  I'm a touchy-feely flirt, but dudes take it as a green light to drunkenly be all over me.
A:  You're a tease.  You're the reason guys think 'No' means 'Yes'.  Stop acting skeezy.

Q:  They're really close, they hang out by themselves, he never asks me to join them, and oh, yeah — she's gorgeous.

A:  Really...?  You can't see what's going on here?!?

    *************

Don't even get me started on the "confessions".  Good Lord!

Look 20 somethings...here's all the advice you need:

1.  Either stop being slutty, or accept your sluttiness and be proud of it; but stop using it as an excuse to dog guys.  They are what they are, if you don't like it, don't feed into it.
2.  You don't need to know 10,000 positions or techniques.  A warm breeze is enough for most guys
3.  If he's spending time with her...there's a reason and its not that she's good conversation
4.  He doesn't care about your hair cut/color, your eye shadow, or your shoes...end of story

Why over complicate one of the most simple things on the planet? 

Once your a 21st C DG you know all this. Been there, done that.  Keeping your man happy is key.  This day & age, if you don't keep him happy someone else will.  Take the 10 minutes twice a week to give your attention to him.  See if it doesn't make your home life a million times better, or at minimum bring a smile to your hubby's face.  I bet if you do...the trash will magically take itself out!

Thursday, March 4, 2010

What is that thing in the corner?

Kids are in school...baby is sleeping (probably not a good thing...) and I'm waiting on a client.  Guess its a good time to blog! 

Although as I sit here, I realize that if I slide my seat to the left a little and look down the hall I can see this monster rising up in the corner of my mud room.  Remember Fraggle Rock?  The Trash Heap Monster?!?  This thing in my corner somewhat resembles that!


No its not garbage...its the dreaded L word!  LAUNDRY!!!  Laundry was something I skillfully avoided even into my college years.  I lived at home, and my mom would (because she's a saint) do my laundry for me as long as I brought it down to the laundry room on laundry day!  How awesome is that!  Even after my husband and I moved in here, I did very little laundry.  (It only takes turning one white "In & Out Burger" shirt pink to convince a guy that maybe he is more suited for that job!)

But once I accepted this position of Stay at Home/Work at Home mom, the laundry became one of my jobs.  BOO!

I hate it.  Hate it.  Hate it.  Hate it!  It never ends.  It just multiplies and compounds and spreads and takes over.  If I go even ONE day without running a load or 2, it gets so out of hand that it takes me over an hour to fold everything.  Now I know that I don't HAVE to fold it...that's what kids are for!  But they have enough stuff to worry about with school and homework.  I bring it down, wash & dry, fold and return the basket to the upstairs...they put it away.

With 6 people in this house it just seems out of control.

One day worth of laundry =

a minimum of 5 pairs of underware (thankfully only one of us is wearing bras right now...but another one of us is getting VERY close to needing some training ones!  YIKES!)
6 pairs of pants (9 if the kids come home and change into play clothes)
5 pajamas pants
5 pajama shirts
6 shirts (again 9 if the kids come home and change into play clothes)
12 socks
A handful of sweatshirts
6 bath towels
12 washcloths
Not to mention the baby's clothes have to be run separate...and throw in there a few burp cloths, blankets that got diaper leakage on them, probably one random change of clothes for him due to diaper leakage and one swaddling blanket because my lovin hubby tends to use those as burp cloths if one isn't close when he's feeding the little guy.
And I'm sure I'm forgetting something obvious...

So you can see how it piles up. 

We DGs have a never ending job with laundry!  And forget folding it!  IF you are lucky enough to get time to do it without the baby crying and the kids needing something and the dog not running through your piles with muddy paws...half the time you end up with the wrong kids' stuff in the wrong piles!  "MOOOOOOOM!!  That isn't MINE!!"

But its all part of the job, isn't it!

So in honor of our never ending trash-heap-esque laundry piles and the hours that they take off our lives...here are some cool offers from Gain & 7th Generation!

Check out Gain's weekly sweepstakes and enter for a chance to win a trip to LA to hang out with...get this...Punky freakin Brewster! & Sabrina the Teenage Witch at their new candy store!

And check out 7th Generation's website for awesome coupons and special deals:
http://www.seventhgeneration.com/coupons


Ok ladies...I'm off to fold some laundry!!!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

And the dish ran away with the spoon...

Ok so its more like, the dog ran away with the pacifier.  NO JOKE!
Sure son, I'd love to stop you from screaming, but your puppy decided your bink was a perfect thing to swipe to add to her collection of stolen items nestled safely in that one part of our yard that I neglect and ignore.

Cell phone is ringing, its one of my mothers in law...Awesome!!  Because I don't have enough else going on-now I can spend a half hour on the phone recanting stories of last night's diaper blow out and the kid who gets up 200 times a night because she "can't sleep" or more likely, doesn't want to.

So lets recap-crying baby, dog chasing the cat, pre-k'er squealing: "The cat & dog are FIGHTING!!" in a register that I'm pretty sure only household pets and wild animals can hear.  Phone ringing, oh wait, is that the fire alarm??  Even Better!  I forgot to take the cupcakes for my oldest kid's school bday party out of the oven!

Its mass chaos!  Everyone has what we like to call, the witching hour.  Ours happens to be that hour after school gets out.  In this single hour, 3 school aged kids invade the house with their bags and piles of outdoor gear, fling stacks on the counter of homework and more notes from teachers than is even reasonable.   the baby is inevitably hungry (because the baby is a moose and he is always freakin hungry!).  The dog gets excited that everyone is home and usually steps on someone resulting in crying.  The cat, who I only tolerate because I have to, always feels this is a good time to chime in with his 2 cents...REOWWWW...I swear he'd make a beautiful muff!  Of course I'm trying to start dinner while helping with homework that would likely reduce Einstein to tears-I mean really-what the hell are "math machines"?! And just when things couldn't get any more chaotic, my husband walks in..."DADDY'S HOME!!!!!"  And the running, jumping, screaming kids and freaking out dog start ALL OVER AGAIN!

But this...this fire alarm riddled, crying baby missing his bink, war dialed cell phone, fighting cat & dog moment is brought to you NOT by witching hour but by my typical late morning frenzy.  Oh yeah.  It's that much fun!  Husbands you have NO idea what your wife does all day.  You might THINK you know because on the weekend you pick up a vacuum or take a few loads of laundry upstairs for the kids to put away...but you are in the dark, soooooooo sooooooo in the dark.

The EASY solution to the chaos listed above: 

Crack open a cold one, shut yourself in your room and let everyone (dog, cat, baby, and kids) cry it out.
Lord have mercy, would child protective services have a hay-day with that one?!

The real solution...wait for it...wait for it...

*run to the wall and pull the battery out of the fire alarm (remember this for later...but you wont remember it for later.  You will remember you took the battery out sometime around 2am, then when you freak out about the alarm not being functional you will lie awake for an hour wondering if you should get out of your warm bed and put the battery back in the alarm.  After an hour of this, you will finally decide that you should, at which time the loud BEEEEEEEEEP EEEEEEEEEP of the alarm resetting itself will likely piss off your husband, wake up the dog who now needs to go out, wake up the baby who you JUST fed an hour and a half ago, and cause you a headache...where's the Advil?!?)

*get cupcake-hockey pucks out of the oven...DO NOT FORGET THE OVEN MIT!
*grab baby, run to nursery and attempt desperately to locate your Maya/Moby/Insert other baby carrying device here
*strap baby to you
*fondly remember the backpain of pregnancy now that your 14lb moose child is hanging off your front side
*smack the dog in the ass and tell her to go lay down
*grab the cat who is now screaming-throw him in laundry room and shut door (HAH! Stupid cat!)
*hit 'silence call' button on cell phone (because if you hit 'ignore' it will send mother in law straight to voicemail and she will know you ignored her call...but silence lets it keep ringing without irritating you further).
*shhhhhhhhh...dog & cat are quiet...baby is quiet...fire alarm is quiet...phone is quiet...
Now stand in a stupor trying to figure out what you were doing before all hell broke loose...and/or what it is that you should be doing which is undoubtedly important and will; once you remember what it was, result in a string of obscenities flying from your mouth.

AH.  Take a breather.  You have about 30 seconds before the fit hits the shan again. 

Congratulations.  You just passed 21st Century Domestic Goddess 101.